Come What May
by adoranymph
Summary: Here's my tribute to Remus and Tonks, a songfic to "Come What May" from Moulin Rouge! I'm probably not the first to use this song, although if I am...COOL! Anyway, I wrote this after watching Moulin Rouge! for like the millionth time! Enjoy!


"**Come What May"**

She opened the door to find him standing there. Drenched in rain water. Greyer than ever. Her heart clenched with both joy and pain at the sight of him. It was a sensation that weakened her knees, but she was very good and not letting it show. Then again…he'd always had a nasty habit of being able to read her like no one else could.

She flinched, as if she was about to throw her arms around him, and then decided not to. His heart sank, if possible, even further. Though it wasn't as if he deserved her forgiveness. To begin with he hadn't deserved her love, and this was exactly why. Yet for a moment, he thought she was going to simply close the door on him, but deep down he knew for a fact that she wouldn't. He could read her struggle to maintain her composure in those haunting, naturally violet eyes of hers…. Those eyes he'd come to love so much…those eyes that killed him….

But her hair…so lank, so mousy and brown…not that luscious pink he'd stroked so lovingly when they'd lain together in the heath on warm, sunny afternoons….

He had caused this. Again.

Swallowing hard, she stood aside and invited him inside.

"Thank you," he whispered hoarsely. He stepped over the threshold, and she closed the door behind him. "Erm…w-where is your mother?"

"Lucky for you, she's out." She grinned impishly at him.

Amusement tickled his insides briefly, and he smiled back, but then felt his eyes grow hot and quickly turned away.

She brought him some towels and a set of his robes which he'd left behind in his haste to take off. Inside she felt herself breaking as she watched him use the bathroom to change in instead of their bedroom. Clearly, in his mind, he no longer consider it his as well as hers. Just hers.

She wiped furiously at her eyes, took a deep breath, and set about making tea in the kitchen.

"Dora?" he called.

"In the kitchen!" It was so good to hear his voice.

He entered the kitchen and was stunned by the sight of her. She was so beautiful he wanted to fall at her feet and kiss them sweetly.

"Won't you sit down and have some tea with me?" she asked. "It'll warm you up."

He nodded, throat too tight to speak. When he sat down at the table, he realized just how exhausted he really felt, and buried his face in his hands.

"So you've come back, I see."

He looked up at her. Her words stung him terribly. His racing heart beat and overflowed with agonizing love and longing, and his insides felt as though they were made of thin and fragile glass and would break at any moment. Overwhelmed, he averted his eyes. "Yes," he murmured huskily. "Yes."

"I see."

Though he couldn't see it, he could well feel her glare. That's how powerful her glares were. Part of why he loved her so much.

She sighed. "Remus, I hate to do this…it breaks my heart…but if…this is how it's going to be…. We were in love…we were going to be married…then you make one little mistake and call it off…then you come back…and then—" Impulsively she gently pressed her palm to the flat of her stomach, where their child was growing within. She forced herself to continue. "If it's going to be like this…then…maybe we should just end it." Fleetingly she reveled in her courage to have managed to get those words past her lips. It had taken every last bit of her resolve, but she'd done it.

Now it was up to him.

Yet at those words…at the words, "end it"…he raised his head to meet her gaze so quickly, the fear flashing in those soft brown eyes…that stupid weakness in her knees started coming back….

"For good?" His voice cracked, just like his heart was doing. It had never been easy for him to leave her when he had…it had taken him more strength than he'd even thought he'd had at first…but somehow he'd done it…and the mere thought of doing it again sapped him of what remaining strength he possessed.

She turned her back on him. "I don't see any other way, unless…no."

Without a thought he rose to his feet and crossed to her, but stopped just short of touching her. "What?"

She hugged herself, her body bristling in response to feeling his right behind hers, so close she could just barely feel his breath brush her neck. She closed her eyes, and took a deep, calming breath before opening them again.

"Unless what?" he entreated. "Please…tell me."

She shook her head stiffly.

Suddenly, he remembered something his old friend James, long dead these sixteen years, had once told him, one rainy day rather like this one: _"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return…."_

He drew in a profound, shuddering breath, and without warning, words tumbled out like a song deep within his heart breaking free at last.

"**Never knew I could feel like this  
Like I've never seen the sky before  
Want to vanish inside your kiss**"

His words stole away her breath, and she turned to face him. She made to speak, but she couldn't form words. She gazed up into his eyes…eyes that had seen too much…eyes that adored her so much a lump the size of her fist formed in her throat….

He took her face in his hands, trembling with the ecstasy of feeling her soft skin beneath his rough palms.

"**Seasons may change, winter to spring  
But I love you until the end of time**

**Come what may  
Come what may  
I will love you  
Until my dying day**"

He closed his eyes and bent his head towards hers. She reflected him and reached up to meet his kiss. He pressed her close to him, and she clung to him as if she'd been struggling for life out at sea and had finally found a safe and sacred shore. They deepened their oscillation, hearts beating as one as tears streamed down both their faces.

And as the seasons changed from winter to spring, they both watched with joyful fascination as their child grew inside her. They had moved back into his parents' cottage—now his—but of course received frequent visits from her mother, who kept her eye on him for a while, however, seemed to eventually see that this time, he meant to stay with his wife, with the woman he loved more than life itself.

He continued to leave periodically to do "Potterwatch", and go on dangerous missions. But he never left without whispering, "Come what may," in her ear. And thus far, he always returned home safe, wrapped up in her arms. On one such day he returned after nearly dying at the hands of Death Eaters, he nearly cried when she greeted him, and the moment he was inside her pulled her as close to him as her growing belly would allow him and kissed her hair, thanking God that he was alive.

"Darling, what is it? You're trembling like mad." She pulled back and cupped his face in her hands. "And you're as white as a sheet. What happened?"

Though he smiled, his eyes were overbright. "Nothing, my love," he croaked. He framed her face with his hands, rained both tears and kisses all over it, over every inch of her beauty.

She pulled him close again, realizing with a pounding heart that she had come very close that night to losing him forever to the darkness of Death. But she thanked the heavens that he hadn't been lost, and he was here, now, with her…and their baby.

And in fact, it wasn't long before that baby came. The moment that labor was onset, he called for her mother, and by the time her mother got there, the contractions were just starting to regulate. In retrospect, he realized he had never felt more helpless in his life than he did right at that moment. As she went through the paces of breathing, and he breathed with her, the most he could do besides do that and murmur words of encouragement to her was hold her hand and mop her brow. He barely felt any pain when she gripped his hand so hard that she might have broken it, because he had known far worse pain…and something deep inside told him that the only pain equal to that of a werewolf transformation was the pain a woman endured in giving birth to the child inside her. But even then, he wished that he could take the pain away from her and endure it for her, so that she wouldn't have to.

Yet it was all worth it when, after her mother urged her once again to push, they heard the sound of a baby's cry ring through the cottage.

"It's a boy!" her mother declared. "A healthy baby boy!"

Though his wife could only cry out with exhausted relief, he kissed her brow and told her how wonderful and beautiful she was. Then he kissed each and every one of the knuckles on both her hands. "My Dora," he told her, smiling, his eyes brimming with as much tears as hers were. "I love you so much."

She reached up and stroked the side of his face. "I love you too, Remus. I always will."

They looked up to see her mother, whose eyes were also brighter than usual as she beamed proudly at them both. In her arms she held a beautiful, freshly cleaned and immaculate infant boy crying for his mother, wrapped up in a white bundle of blankets.

Rendered speechless, her mother handed him their newborn son, and then proceeded to take care of the mess about the room.

"Look at him," he croaked in awe as he handed their baby to his wife. "Our son…our little son…."

She couldn't speak, she could only laugh and cry as she held their newborn child in her arms.

He reached out and gently cupped the small one's head in his hand. It was so little in comparison, and he found himself choking on his words. "He's beautiful…you're beautiful…."

Life was beautiful.

"We'll call him Ted…after your father…. Would you like that…?"

At present, she could only nod. But when she found her voice, she looked at him, and he at her. Then they both looked down at their child, and sang softly to soothe him, to let him know that for him, they would always keep the world into which he'd been born a safe and loving place.

"**Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place  
Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace  
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste**"

"No, not a waste at all," he whispered.

She looked up at him. "You used to think so." It wasn't a question.

He nodded solemnly. Then he smiled. "But now I know…what I should have known all along…it's not."

She returned the smile invitingly. "It's not, eh?"

He regarded both her and their son. "No, oh no," he said.

"**It all revolves around you**"

And then he kissed her softly, their lips fitting together as if custom-made for just each other since their births.

They loved their new little son so very much. They loved him even during changings and midnight feedings…and 3am feedings….

Her husband even gave their son a little stuff wolf to play with, and her heart melted to see him play with it with their son, who, at such a young age, could only grab at it and stare at it in wonder. Meanwhile, she loved to entertain him with all of the ways she could change her face. His hair changed color too, and quite frequently. Moments after he was born it went from blond to black…or was it black to blond…? Well, now it was turquoise, and he seemed to like that one. At the very least, it confirmed that he had not inherited any kind of werewolf gene, much to her husband's relief.

But then one night the war beyond the walls of the cottage came to their front stoop, when they received a Patronus message alerting them of the great battle about to take place at Hogwarts, and that all who were able should come and help defend the great castle, for it might at least be their chance at a victory against the Dark Lord.

He was the only one to receive the message—his wife was upstairs having a restful cuddle with their son after a long day. His legs felt like lead as he dragged them with him up the stairs. With great pain he met the sight of his wife lying on her side on the bed, their son lying on his back next to her while she cooed at him and rubbed his tummy.

She sensed him watching them. She looked over her shoulder and smiled. But then she saw his eyes, how sad a shade of brown they were….

She rose into a sitting position, still keeping a hand on their son's stomach. "Remus, what is it?"

He sat down beside her on the bed and looked down at his hands. He was shaking.

She pulled him into her arms.

"Dora…" he croaked.

"Shhh…I'm right here…it's alright…."

"I've just received a message by Patronus—Fred and George Weasley…."

She pulled back and looked at him hard. His eyes were so desperate, revealing the torn heart deep inside him.

He repeated the message to her. Then he said, in a voice that was hoarse and scarcely above a whisper: "I have to go."

"I'm going with you," she said at once.

Fearfully he gazed upon her, and then at their little son still squirming as ever beneath her quiet hand, and then upon her again. "No," he said firmly. He scooped up their son and held him close, kissed his forehead, then handed him to her. "Please Dora, his mother should live to raise him. If I don't live it won't matter, but you're his mother. Please…."

Reluctantly she took their little son, rose to her feet, and laid him down to sleep in the bassinet nearby. Then she turned around and said, "I'll take him to my mother's. She can look after him."

Now he was on his feet. He crossed to her and took her in his arms, and pressed her to him, not caring that tears spilled from his eyes into her hair.

"Remus, I'm not pregnant anymore!"

"Dora, what if we were both killed?" He pulled back and gazed deep into those violet eyes that would haunt him from the moment he left. "You would abandon our son?"

"You're abandoning _us_!"

"I'm needed! I'm in the Order!"

"So am I! We're both fighting for our son!"

"No, no, no! Better me than you!"

"Remus, how can you say that?" She grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a shake. "You said it wouldn't matter if you didn't survive! Well it would, it would matter to a little boy like our Teddy, to never know his great and wonderful and loving father! And if anything it would certainly matter to me! God, Remus, I love you too much! And…and…." Her voice quieted as she searched for words to get it through his brain that he'd better think twice before believe that she was actually going to let him do this alone.

And then they came to her.

"**And there's no mountain too high  
No river too wide  
****Sing out this song  
And I'll be there by your side**"

"No," he said, his voice strong with conviction, yet cutting her off gently. "No. Please. Not this time. I don't want you facing your aunt. Not now. Last time you faced her you were nearly taken from me forever. I have no doubt in mind that if you show up tonight you will die by her hand. I cannot have that happen."

His voice—the touch of his fingers tracing the lines of her beautiful face—they were all so filled with such love that her heart all but broke. "Remus…" she cried. "Remus…."

He wrapped his arms around her and held her with as much love as he possibly could give her. "Listen…listen my love…" and he whispered in her ear:

"**Storm clouds may gather  
And stars may collide  
But I love you**"

He broke off, his voice dying in his throat. Then, quickly, he pulled away from her and told her to wait just a moment. He went to their son, picked him up, and held him and cuddled him close.

This time she didn't bother to hold back her tears as he whispered to their little boy that he loved him. Their baby reached up and touched his father's tearful face, whimpered as if he knew his father was leaving and may never come back. Then, with anguish he handed their son to his wife, and he kissed her one more time, and whispered to them both:

"**I love you  
Until the end of time**  
**Come what may**"

Before she knew it, he was gone. He pulled away from her and ran, knowing that he if didn't tear away like that, he would never find the strength to leave. That's why he'd had to tear away when he'd left her the first time…but this time _had _to go…the future…their son's future…depended on it….

It took all of her willpower not to break down and cry right there, and she held her son close to her, kissing his sweet head and whispering him words of comfort, perhaps for herself as well as for him….

Not long after this parting, her husband found himself fighting for his life, keeping himself alive by the skin of his teeth. At the moment he was down, one hand pressed to the bleeding wound in his shoulder from the slashing spell that had cut right through the fabric of his jacket.

The Death Eater with whom he dueled laughed cruelly and aimed his wand at a small boy he vaguely remembered as a boy by the name of Colin Creevey—

"No!" His cry was hoarse and rang out in the swallowing darkness of the Hogwarts' grounds. He tried to raise his wand in time, but the Death Eater was quicker.

Colin Creevey, as he ran to help a friend of his, dropped like a stone as the Killing Curse hit him in the back. The boy seemed nothing more than a child's rag doll as the limp body flopped onto the grass and lay still, the eyes wide with shock.

Hatred and grief roiled through his veins. "Dolohov, you bastard!" he shouted at his Death Eater opponent. He hurled an Impediment Jinx so quickly that the Death Eater didn't have the time to react, and before he knew it, was slammed back against a tree.

"Take that, you little dirty-blooded wretch you!" shrieked the voice of the murderess that had killed her own innocent, convict cousin, Sirius Black, the last of his best friends whom he could still have called his best friend.

With horror, he staggered to his feet to see his wife battling for her own life against her Death Eater aunt. What was she doing here? He should have expected this…only his wife….

His wife….

How he loved her….

She yelled as her aunt knocked her flat onto the ground.

He ran at breakneck speed across the lawn. "Dora!" he cried along with his racing heart. He stumbled beside her and helped her to her feet.

"Well, well, well," taunted her evil aunt. "If it isn't the Big Bad Wolf come to play with my dirty little niece and me! Tell me, how's the little _cub _doing?"

"You stay away from our son!" he yelled fiercely, and hurled a powerful hex at the wicked aunt that even she, one of the three notorious Black sisters, hadn't expected. She flew away rolling over and over on her side like tumbleweed until the hex wore off, slamming her to the ground in a heap, but still unbearably alive.

The wicked aunt and the Death Eater called Dolohov both staggered to their feet, acknowledged each other's presence, and joined forces, so that the wicked aunt could kill her niece, and the twisted-faced Muggle-torturer could have the pleasure of slaying the werewolf.

The werewolf meanwhile grasped his wife's hand and looked into her eyes, his own filled with heart-wrenching anguish at the sight of her. He was overjoyed to have her with him, beside him, yet there was a torturous fear inside him that she would die this night. "What are you doing here?" His voice was straining, breaking as he spoke. With his free hand, he caressed the side of her face, unable to help himself.

The wicked aunt and the twisted torturer were coming closer, raising their wands.

The husband and wife raised theirs, still clasping the other's hand so tight, never letting go.

She looked at him with her shining eyes. "Remus…."

"I told you to stay at home…darling…." If she died, it would be his fault, all his fault….

But her voice reached out to his heart and soul.

"**Come what may**

**I will love you**"

And inside he swelled with love with her, and he answered her heart and soul's cry with the cry from deep within his own.

"**I will love you **

**come what may**"

She aimed a hex at her aunt, he one at the twisted-faced Death Eater.

"Damn them!" the black-hearted aunt cursed.

"Let's finish this already!" roared the twisted-faced one.

Try as they might…as hard as they fought…using all of their greatest skills…something quite unmatched and masterful…still…their opponents' ruthless, cunning, and dirty ways dueling left both husband and wife crumpled and bleeding. The shrivel-hearted aunt and her twisted-faced comrade had gone mad with the evil corruption that tainted their souls. The werewolf and his beloved were beaten into exhaustion, and now before they knew it they were wandless. The two Death Eaters had both blown gaskets beyond imagination. Their depravity levels had reached their peaks.

The two newlyweds knew in that moment that both their deaths had come.

"I'm sorry," his wife whispered as tears glided bravely down her face.

He was in awe of her…his love…his life….

Their son….

Their son…would be alright…there would be love in his life…with his wife's mother…and Harry of course, James' son…the man who had first taught him: _"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return…."_

He laced both sets of fingers with both of hers, and held her hands tightly in his, sending her waves of love and warmth. As they stared up into the eyes of the ones who raised their wands, preparing to bring them to their deaths once and for all, he pressed his face against hers.

"**Yes, I will love you**"

And finding her strength, she nuzzled him and answered,

"**Come what may**"

And there was no force—not even death—that could silence the two lovers' hearts and souls from shouting to the starry heavens above them:

"**I will love you**

**Until my dying day**"

The last word they sang with their very last breaths, and even as the green light of the Killing Curse descended upon them, even as that day became their dying day, they died in one another's arms, their final thoughts filled with the assurance that their son would be safe in the hands of those who would continue to love and care for him, and that in the meantime, they had left this world, taking with them the greatest love either of them could have ever known. A love that even in death could never die: a love that will last…forever.


End file.
